


A Punch and A Kiss

by orpheous87



Series: Drarropoly 2019 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Quidditch, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21782992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orpheous87/pseuds/orpheous87
Summary: A misunderstanding at a party leads Harry to take an action he might regret.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarropoly 2019 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548649
Comments: 5
Kudos: 93
Collections: Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest





	A Punch and A Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to GinevraHolmes for betaing ❤️

“Harry! No!” 

Hermione’s shriek was in vain as Harry launched himself at Draco, his fist connecting with Draco’s left cheek with a smack. 

Ron leapt after Harry, seizing him around the neck and dragging him away before any of the teachers could get there. “Seriously mate!” 

Draco looked furious, but didn’t make any move to hit Harry back. He had no idea what he’d actually said that had caused Harry to fly into such a rage and he certainly wasn’t about to ask. 

“You just wait, Malfoy!” Harry spat. “Wait until tomorrow!” 

Ron looked around and sighed with relief when Dean appeared to help him manhandle Harry out of the room. 

Hermione cast an apologetic look over her shoulder at Draco before she followed them. 

Draco glared after them. He shrugged off Pansy’s attempt to check on the bruise that was already blooming and stalked out of the room. He should have known a party the night before the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match was a bad idea.

***

“Harry, what were you thinking?” Hermione snapped as she stormed into the boys’ dormitory.

“He was insulting my parents, Hermione!” Harry retorted, an expression of fury still on his face. 

“ _Why_ would he be insulting your parents?” Hermione demanded. “I thought you two were getting on better since coming back?” 

“Well so did I,” Harry said. “Clearly I was wrong!” 

“Don’t you think you might be overreacting?” Hermione continued, glancing at Ron for help. 

“Yeah, mate, maybe you’ve got it wrong?” Ron asked hesitantly. 

“I’m not stupid,” Harry snapped. “Or maybe I am, for thinking he’s changed in the first place!” 

“Seriously, Harry,” Hermione said. “You didn’t see his face right before you hit him. He wasn’t mocking you, not like when I punched him in third year.” 

“He was,” Harry muttered, not looking at Hermione. He didn’t want to admit that she was right and that he hadn’t taken any notice of the look on Draco’s face. 

“I really don’t think he was,” Hermione said gently. “Is it possible you misunderstood?” 

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head, though there was a nagging doubt in the back of his mind. _Had_ he got the wrong idea? Had he been too keen to believe the worst of Malfoy once again?

***

“Draco?”

“Go away, Blaise,” Draco muttered from behind his bed hangings. He was sitting on his bed, examining his bruised cheek in a hand mirror. 

“Can’t do that,” Blaise replied, sticking his head through the bed hangings before stepping through fully. “Pansy would kill me if I didn’t see how you are.” 

“What makes you think _I_ won’t kill you for staying?” Draco asked bitterly. 

“I know you better than that,” Blaise replied, perching on the edge of the bed. “What was that about?” 

“Honestly?” Draco asked, finally looking at Blaise. “I have no idea. I was talking about… oh.” 

“Oh what?” Blaise asked, looking at Draco curiously. 

“I mentioned parents,” Draco said slowly. 

“You were talking about his parents?” Blaise said, his eyes widening. 

“No, no, not _his_ parents,” Draco replied quickly. “I am _not_ that crass, whatever he might think… well, I suppose I was once. But I was not talking about them this time.” 

“Are you sure?” Blaise asked. 

“Of course I am! I’m not stupid!” Draco snapped. “I was talking about… about my own parents.” 

“Why would he think you were talking about his parents then?” 

“I don’t know,” Draco sighed. “I can’t even remember exactly what I said.” 

“You need to talk to him then,” Blaise said. “Put him right.” 

Draco shook his head. “Absolutely not,” he said. “I am going nowhere near him tonight. He doesn’t forgive easily and I would rather not get a matching bruise on my other cheek, thank you very much.”

“Well after the game tomorrow then,” Blaise said. “Don’t let this fester on all year.” 

Draco grunted in reply. He knew that Blaise was right, the year would be miserable if he and Potter were at each other’s throats again.

***

“Gryffindor score again! I do like Ginny Weasley, she’s a lovely friend.”

“Miss Lovegood, please keep your commentary relative to the game!” 

Harry could barely hear a word that was being broadcast around the stadium because of the wind whistling in his ears. He was scanning the entire pitch, hoping for a glimpse of the snitch, as he flew around and around. 

Draco, on the opposite side of the pitch, was doing the same. He would normally be tailing Harry quite closely but, considering the bruise that was still very evident on his cheek, he didn’t think it would be a good idea today. 

Five minutes later, Harry dropped into a steep dive. He’d spotted the snitch hovering about a foot off the ground below them. 

Draco dove a fraction of a second later, but he was also closer to the snitch and had never wanted to catch the bloody thing more than he did today. He was determined not to let Harry distract him this time. 

Harry glanced across at Draco out of the corner of his eye and urged his broom forward. 

Seconds later, two hands closed around the snitch and the crowd fell silent. Harry and Draco were facing each other, each of them glaring at the other. 

“Let go, Malfoy,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “I got it first.” 

“No, I think you’ll find _I_ got it first, Potter,” Draco replied, fighting to keep his voice steady. 

Madam Hooch appeared beside them, her eyes fixed on their hands. “Which of you touched it first?” 

“Me!” 

“I did!” 

Madam Hooch rolled her eyes. “Let me see,” she said, moving closer to examine their grip. Taking each of their wrists in her hands, she moved them this way and that, trying to see between the tangle of fingers from all angles. Frowning, she dropped their hands and moved backwards. She cast a _Sonorous_ charm on herself and announced, “I declare this game a draw! Each Seeker has the same amount of contact with the snitch!” 

Harry and Draco stared at each other in disbelief, then turned to Madam Hooch. 

“It can’t be a draw!” 

“Draws don’t happen in Quidditch!” 

Madam Hooch cancelled the _Sonorous_ charm and looked evenly back at them. “They can and do, and I say that this game is a draw. Well done to you both.” 

Harry glared at Draco. 

Draco opened his mouth to say something and then shrugged, letting his grip on the snitch fall slack. “I don’t even care,” he muttered, turning on his broom and flying away towards the ground. 

“Wha— Malfoy!” Harry exclaimed, speeding after him. “Come back!” 

“Why, so you can punch me again?” Draco called over his shoulder. “No thanks!” 

“No!” Harry yelled, continuing to fly after Draco. “I need to talk to you about that!” 

Draco pulled up short and turned to face Harry. “Talk?” he yelled incredulously, forgetting that they were still in the stadium. “You expect me to believe that?!” 

“ _Yes_!” Harry roared back, pulling up beside him. “I’m sorry I punched you! I… I might have overreacted,” he finished, dropping his voice now that he was beside Draco. 

“Might have overreacted?” Draco scoffed. “You’re joking, I mean, who _wouldn’t_ punch someone for simply speaking the truth?” 

“I… what were you talking about?” Harry asked, forcing himself to remain calm. He needed to know if Hermione had been right and that he’d misunderstood. 

“I was talking about _my_ parents,” Draco replied, suddenly feeling very self conscious. “Not yours.” 

“Oh,” Harry said, dropping his head slightly, ashamed of how he’d reacted. “I’m… I’m sorry. I just… assumed.” 

“Yes, I know you did,” Draco replied, sniffing. “And that’s the problem. You’re always assuming.” 

“I know,” Harry said quietly. “It’s an old habit. I know you’re not the same person you used to be. I do.” 

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Draco said, looking away. 

“I… I can try and show it a different way,” Harry said, suddenly feeling bold. 

Draco didn’t reply, but looked back at Harry. 

Harry took a deep breath and flew forward, pressing his lips to Draco’s in one swift movement, his free hand cupping the back of Draco’s neck. “Sorry,” he whispered as he pulled away, licking his lips. “I…” 

“Why are we doing this in the middle of the Quidditch pitch?” Draco whispered back. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “It seemed like a good idea…” 

Draco shook his head. “When you punched me I didn’t think this was going to happen.” 

“Me neither,” Harry replied. “I did a lot of thinking last night and came to the conclusion that I may, or may not, jump to conclusions too quickly.” 

Draco snorted. “You think?” 

“Shut up,” Harry said with a smile. “I really am sorry about last night. I think it shows that I really shouldn’t drink anything stronger than Butterbeer…” 

“Maybe,” Draco nodded. “But you weren’t the only one. We probably shouldn’t have gone to that party. Everything was going so well beforehand.” 

“I know,” Harry said, nodding too. “I’ve definitely learned some lessons.” 

“Me too,” Draco replied. “I think we need to go and have a proper talk… somewhere we’re not being watched by the whole school.” 

Harry grinned and looked down before nodding. “I think you’re right. Let’s go.”


End file.
